Hey, Toto?
by deletrear
Summary: It probably said something about the celebrity treatment of the Dursley household that when Harry wished to be free of them, his magic dumped him at the doorstep of a family of honest-to-god assassins. or: that one drabble where the Zoldyck's aren't abusive dickbags, and we're all better people for it.
1. Nice one, Harry!

**Title:** We're Not In Kansas Anymore

 **Summary:** It probably said something about the celebrity treatment of the Dursley household that when Harry wished to be free of them, his magic dumped him at the doorstep of a family of honest-to-god assassins.  
Or: That one drabble where the Zoldyck's aren't abusive dickbags, and we're all better people for it.

 **Words:** 2,453

 **Disclaimer:** Disclaimed.

 **Notes:** I have no idea what this is or how Harry knows about magic at the age of, like, seven or whatever but he does. Go with it. I don't know how to write normal children.  
(New note!) Complete! I said I was going to continue this but I didn't and I won't and I'm okay with that. Edited it for the cosmetic stuff. The email notification is a lie: there is no chapter two! I'm a fool and clicked new chapter instead of update/replace chapter. *Awkward throat clear* ...my bad?

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It probably said something about the celebrity treatment of the Dursley household that when Harry wished to be free of them, his magic dumped him at the doorstep of a family of honest-to-god _assassins_.

Well... he hadn't thought his life was so bad that killers for hire were apparently a step up in the world, but he wasn't going to take the next train back to Surrey, so it'd have to do.

It was just... come on.

Assassins? Who'd a thunk?

Also, what was up with his hair?

Harry beelined for the nearest mirror and cataloged the changes. There were… more than he figured there would be.

His messy short hair had grown to shoulders, thankfully still a curly mess (Harry didn't know what he would do if it wasn't!) It was still black and all but way softer than he'd experienced before. His eyes were weirdly green, and he wasn't wearing glasses. Apparently didn't need to. Everything was nice and clear without the need for wire digging into the bridge of his nose.

It was kind of neat, actually.

His nose was smaller and flatter, his eye shape wider and gaze a lot more intense than he remembered it being, and he had the best poker face ever. Still pretty short, except his arms were cords of muscle and he couldn't feel his ribs poking out from under his skin. It was a pleasant change from usual.

He'd already looked around his room. It was spartan by normal standards: a single bed with a lamp on a bedside table, dark green carpet, dark wood for the walls. For Harry's standards, however, this was paradise. He had an en-suite bathroom!

After spending a healthy moment wandering his room and gaping at everything (the sheets were so soft), he discovered a framed picture on his bedside table. It was of him and a white-haired man made entirely of muscle. On the back were the words: _14.7.177. Silva and Tolluno. Tolluno's first kill as a family assassin!_

Going by the way the names were written, Harry was fairly certain that he was Tolluno. Weird name. Harry had been repeating it to himself to get used to the sound of it so he'd recognize it when someone inevitably called out to him using it. He wasn't counting on hearing 'Harry' any time soon, so.

Then again, he didn't hear it that often around the Dursley's anyhow. An actual name was better than boy.

Apart from that one photo with "Silva," there wasn't much in the way of personal items. His clothes consisted almost entirely of dark green and black — he sensed a theme here — and there was a worrying amount of needles hidden in every shirt he'd put on. The dartboard hung up on the wall stuck with darts cluttering the bulls-eye. It was a bit intimidating.

It was good, though. Suspected assassin that he was, he thought the room was nice and big and calming, and the whole having a room thing had convinced Harry to give this new life an honest shot. Of course, until he had a proper grasp on what was going on, he'd be letting his body go through the motions.

"Tolluno! Come down here, would you? I need your opinion on something!"

That would be...

… actually, Harry hadn't the foggiest.

The woman had the same screeching quality to her voice as Petunia did, so he would have pegged her as his aunt just on principle, but Harry didn't have a clue what anything was. New body, new experiences.

Hopefully he didn't mess anything up.

His big green eyed reflection stared back at him, perplexed and offering no magical (ha) solution to this newfound problem. He sighed and turned around. "Coming!" He hollered back, letting his legs navigate the castle that was evidently his home now. Every hallway looked exactly the same to him. If it were up to his sense of direction, he'd be walking around in circles until he starved to death.

Luckily for Harry, magic proved itself to be a reliable and thoughtful entity that threw him into a life his presence was already established in and a body that remembered which winding corridor lead to the drawing room and which lead to the gymnasium.

Eventually, he entered a room that rang no bells whatsoever. It had to be the correct one though, so yipee! He figured this due to the slim woman sitting standing with needles and threads in her mouth, tailoring a frilly Victorian style dress on a kid that looked remarkably like her. Harry was also pretty sure the kid in the dress was a boy but you'd be getting no judgment from Harry, no sirree. To each to their own.

Or however that saying went.

His possible-aunt wore this awesome headgear that acted as her eyes: from the vision to the expression of emotion. _Wicked_. When she looked up at his entrance, Harry was flattered to note that the screen of her visor formed a pixel heart. Although he couldn't see her eyes, Harry could tell that he bore a striking resemblance to the woman, and decided that she had to be his mother.

Thank god for that. Harry had quite enough of shrieking aunt's to last one lifetime; he didn't need to bring it over into his next one. He was really okay without them.

"Oh, Tolluno, that was quick! Good, good, come over here, darling. Hurry!" She gestured him forward with an urgent tone, hands a mite bit preoccupied holding the dress in certain areas. Harry had no idea what she was doing but she looked like she was doing an alright job. Good on her. "What do you think?"

He looked at the person wearing the dress — bob hair, pink irises, beauty mark, _please grant me the sweet release of death_ eyes — and grinned hesitantly.

"It looks... good?"

His mum hummed. "You don't think there's too many ruffles?"

"Of course not," The dress was so poofy that the model couldn't look down without suffocating themself on the ruffled collar. "It's perfect."

The model, who Harry was beginning to realize looked a lot like him as well, was raising their eyebrows in amusement. Harry returned the favor. What were they laughing at?

"I knew you'd love it!" Squealed his cyborg mum, pinning things in place or whatever before grabbing him and pulling him into her bosom. Harry, having never been hugged before, wrapped his arms around her in a sort of numb awe. "It's for you to wear!"

What?

"... Huh?"

The model and Harry's possible-sibling snorted, eyes shining. They kept up the sheen of amusement even when Harry glanced over and shot them a look that universally meant 'shut up you're not helping at all.'

"The ball, Tolluno! With the Svalbard family!"

"Erm..."

Mum put her hands on her hips, pursing her lips. "Don't tell me you've forgotten!" Harry really didn't know what he could say to this. " _Tolluno_! You said you'd try your best not to forget! Have you been showing up for your ballroom dancing lessons with your older brother?"

Ballroom dancing? Why did an assassin need to know how to dance?

Also: Older what now?

The model was snickering into their filly collar with a vindictive glee that, more than their resemblance could, assured Harry that they were definitely related. Only a sibling could find such a situation hilarious. That meant he had an older brother and a younger... someone.

"Shut up," Harry hissed to the sibling, who merely snorted in reply. He rolled his eyes and straightened his back to look at his mum. She stared back, waiting for an answer. He couldn't even remember what she'd said. "Wait, what did you say? I forgot."

Quicker than a whip, she whacked him over the head with a closed hand fan.

He yelped. "Ow!" Sheesh! Rubbing his head, he glared at the sibling outright laughing at him. "Why'd do I have to wear a dress anyway?"

"Kalluto, stop laughing at your brother!" Mum ordered primly. Kalluto — weird name but still better than Tolluno, lucky bastard — shut themself up real quick as to avoid their mother's wrath. "Tolluno, really! You're so scatterbrained! Have you forgotten about your lessons entirely?"

"I really just want to know why I have to wear a dress, honestly."

Smack!

" _Ow_!" He thought the abuse was supposed to be left behind in Surrey!

"You know you can't hide weapons in a suit!"

"Oh. Yeah, obviously, of course," His mum might have narrowed her eyes. Whatever she actually did (it was anyone's guess, what with the visor and all), it made Harry's hackles rise. " _Sorry_! Sorry, I forgot. Again."

Kalluto made a high pitched keening noise, shoulders shaking. Harry reached out to kick them in the shin, delighting in the pained yell it got him. He stepped back to avoid a responding kick and sent a smug glance in Kalluto's vicinity. Kalluto narrowed their eyes.

 _This is war,_ those pink eyes promised him.

Harry tilted his head innocently. _Sorry, what was that?_

 _You inspire a hatred in me that can only be fathomed in song form, worm,_ responded Kalluto's eyes.

 _Connection's dodgy, man, I'm not getting any of that. Could you say it a little louder?_

"Ugh," Kalluto said aloud, sounded defeated. Yes!

Harry grinned in victory. And then yelled again when his mother's hand fan reacquainted itself with the crown of his head. "Are you even listening to me, Tolluno?"

"Of course I am!" Harry lied without a second thought, shocking himself. He _never_ lied to the Dursley's — it was either the truth or silence. It was almost exciting to realize that he was the type of person who could do that. "And, uh, I agree."

"You agree?" His mum repeated dryly. He needed to tread carefully.

Harry nodded enthusiastically. Agreeing with the Dursley's never disappointed him before. Why fix it if it wasn't broke? "With all my heart, mom!" The screen of her visor went to static. He blinked, confused. Was he off the hook or not? "Mom? You okay?"

The static somehow got worse before things cleared up. The screen was full of hearts. Harry was pretty confused. He looked to Kalluto to see if they had any clue was what going on, but they were staring at him with wide, surprised eyes.

... _Oh-kay_... what did he do?

"You know what?" His mum said in an airy voice that unsettled him a little bit. "It's okay that you forget things sometimes, you can't help it."

Kalluto's jaw _dropped_.

"Would you like some ice cream?" She asked Harry, smiling. It was the type of purely happy smile that transformed someone's face into something beautiful, but Harry could only feel weirded out. "I'll let you get a triple scoop!"

No way, a _triple scoop_? "Oooh, yes! That'd be awesome, mom!"

Her screen staticed up again. She clapped her hands together and ruffled his curly hair, pleased. "I'll go and change then, shall I? Get ready, Tolluno, we'll go right now!" Without further adieu, she swept out of the room, practically gliding.

Harry was... really confused, honestly, but the prospect of triple scoop ice cream was distracting him well. Grinning, he turned to Kalluto.

"Ice cream, Kalluto! Did you hear that?" He gushed excitedly.

Kalluto eyed him with something like grudging respect in their eyes. "Well played," They said lowly, assuredly killing Harry's buzz. Except totally not because _triple scoop ice cream!_ "Calling her 'mom' like that, knowing that such a childish term of endearment would cut through her defenses. You're good. With your idiotic blubbering, I'd almost forgotten what a master player of The Game you were."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Harry confessed.

Kalluto scoffed. "Sure you don't."

"I really don't though."

"Go out and eat your triple scoop ice cream, agender spawn of Satan."

"Agender spawn of satan?! What gives?!"

They narrowed their eyes. "When Milluki finds out about this, you'll get what's coming to you."

Nothing made sense but Harry was going to get _ice cream_ so who even cared? "Fine, stay here and monologue then. I guess you don't want ice cream."

They blushed angrily. "As if you were going to offer that anyway!" They snapped, which, umm, what? What a strange thing to say.

"Of course I was going to offer, mom forced you into that dress so she could tailor it for me. You _deserve_ the ice cream."

That stumped Kalluto. They stared blankly at Harry for a long, awkward moment before blinking and rearing back. "Ah." They said.

"Yeah. _Ah_."

"... I can have ice cream with you and mother?"

"What else are you going to do?"

"Find Illumi, use our mutual resentment over you getting ice cream to form a truce, and read his copy of the recount of the Battle of Carthage. I'll read it in front of you. You will do nothing to stop me," Said Kalluto promptly.

That sounded so boring, but there was a spark of excitement in Harry's chest that betrayed his mind. Oh man, he was a history nerd, wasn't he?

"Would you have let me borrow it after you were done?"

"No, you would have gotten ice cream with mother."

"Rude," Harry puffed, amused despite himself. "It's not like you can go out wearing that. Mom would kill you if you dirtied it."

Kalluto rolled their eyes. "You don't have to keep calling her that when she's not here, you know," They said. "Oh and just so you're aware: If you leave without me, I'll melt down all your needles and make them into a bracelet."

"That doesn't sound so bad. I can always get more needles, and a bracelet sounds nice."

"It will have ' _Tolluno Zoldyck still wets the bed_ ' engraved in big, bold letters. Maybe even comic sans."

Harry snorted. "Seriously?"

Kalluto nodded gravely. "I promise."

Harry, strangely, expected nothing else. He wasn't surprised by what Kalluto had said — just a bit admiring. "Luckily, you don't have to go through that much trouble. I won't leave you behind."

They rose their eyebrows. "I'll really do it."

"I know, Kalluto."

They started walking backwards into a changing room (maybe?). "I mean it, Tolluno." Harry rolled his eyes. " _Tolluno Zoldyck still wets the bed_!" They called in reminder.

"Hurry up already!" Harry jokingly hurried. "We don't have all day!"

Kalluto barely smirked and yet Harry knew instinctively that it was their version of a blinding grin. Overwhelmed by the knowledge, he answered with one of his own, and sighed happily when the door clicked behind Kalluto.

Was this what it felt like to have a family?

It could have been worse.


	2. This is the second chapter, I promise!

**Title:** We're Not In Kansas Anymore

 **Summary:** It probably said something about the celebrity treatment of the Dursley household that when Harry wished to be free of them, his magic dumped him at the doorstep of a family of honest-to-god assassins.

Or: That one drabble where the Zoldyck's aren't abusive dickbags, and we're all better people for it.

 **Words:** 1,712

 **Disclaimer:** Disclaimed.

 **Notes:** I wrote this for  wolfiesilvestar but liked it enough to post it as a second chapter. LAST ONE. I SWEAR. THIS STORY IS COMPLETE BUT I WANTED SOME ALLUKA?

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Harry James Potter was the orphaned only child of two no-good, unemployed freeloaders. Tolluno Zoldyck is the youngest boy of six children with two loving parents and a grumpy old grandfather. Tolluno also has zero pig-faced cousins to chase him around the neighbourhood, which is a marked improvement.

His favorite sibling so far is Kalluto: older than him by just barely a year, and the one he sees most often. The others are on "jobs" a lot (Harry is pretty sure that's code for 'going outside the mountain to kill people for money' but is too afraid to ask) and he's only been able to meet one other relative.

With the exception of his mum, of course. And she's pretty cool, so Harry doesn't mind spending a lot of time with her. (His ears are used to her already!)

Harry is throwing darts and trying not to be so terrible at it when his older sister bangs into his room like a hurricane. Alluka is Harry's older sister, Kalluto's senior by a year. She's also the only person in the entire castle (castle!) who doesn't knock before entering his room. Even the _Dursley's_ knocked.

"Tolluno!" She screams. She pauses to laugh when, in his startlement, his dart hits the far left of his wall — definitely nowhere near the bullseye. "Oh man, I'm sorry little brother, I didn't mean to interrupt."

She's lying. She obviously meant to interrupt.

"...Alluka, what's up?"

Alluka inhales deeply, squaring her shoulders. Harry would take her seriously if he hadn't been Tolluno for a week now. It took him about five minutes to pin down the fact that Alluka lives to exaggerate. It's seriously going to get them in trouble one day. Tolluno isn't looking forward to that; it's probably going to be painful. "I need your help," she says gravely.

Harry waits for her to continue, not convinced that this is a dire situation. His terrible aim is a dire situation. The upcoming ball at the Svalbard family mansion is a dire situation. Whatever it is that Alluka is here to pester him about probably isn't that important.

Reading his nonchalance, Alluka pouts cutely. "Aw come on, show a little initiative, lil bro! It's serious!"

"...What do you need?"

"Killua is back," says Alluka with a certain note in her voice that suggests Harry should definitely know who Killua is, and probably be a bit more excited that he's back. "And he's brought a friend who isn't Canary!" Last Harry checked, that was a bird, but magic is real and his name is _Tolluno_ , so he scolds himself for judging. He doesn't have a leg to stand on. Like, really. Tolluno. What was his mum thinking?

"Okay," Harry says gamely, resolving to fake it 'til he makes it. "Who is this friend?"

"Someone from the Kurta clan!"

Harry has not the foggiest idea about what is happening.

"Er, wicked?"

"I know, right?!" Alluka squeals, so he must have picked the right reaction. "A surviving member of the Kurta clan! I can't believe it! So I need you to do my hair up real quick, okay? With your needles in the fancy hairdo that mother taught you; I have to make a good impression!"

Harry blinks, then stares at his sister a bit more intently. She's wearing a pink dress that isn't her daily outfit — notable because people in this house like to wear a certain combination of clothes and not much else. Deviation from the norm resulted in people asking if Tolluno was "feeling okay," (he just wanted to wear a blue shirt?) This one is more elegant, taking from the Asian designs that Kalluto and their mother favor. She looks very understated and sophisticated, except her hair is a riotous mess that's detracting from the message she's trying to communicate.

For those curious, the message is: _Seduce me!_

"...Is that mum's lipstick?"

Alluka's face turns red. "What? No, it's — it's mine!"

"You have lipstick?"

"Of course I do! Killua bought it for me!"

Harry hums, not in the position to call her out on that. He still doesn't know who Killua is, though his name is weird enough that he's probably one of Harry's older brothers. "I don't know how to do hair, Alluka."

"Don't tell me you've _forgotten_?"

"Sure seems that way," Harry replies. Alluka looks downtrodden by this — man, what kind of memory problems did Tolluno have that Harry can recycle this excuse as many times as he wants? — and that makes Harry feel sort of guilty. He clears his throat. "But I can try? If you want?"

He blinks _once_ , and Alluka is seated at the foot of his bed, cross-legged and buzzing with excitement. There are literal sparkles in her eyes: a clear blue colour, nothing at all like Tolluno and Kalluto's. Harry wonders about that. Does mum have blue eyes? Where the hell does the green come from?

(Is he _adopted_?)

"Do your best, lil bro! I'm counting on you!"

Harry sits behind Alluka, accepts the comb she produces from the folds of her dress, and awkwardly begins the arduous task of taming her hair. The brush loses a few teeth to the depths of her hair, which is thick enough to give Harry's a run for its money, but eventually submits. Once her hair is fluffy and soft to the touch, Harry digs his fingers in and improvises.

Luckily for him (and the future of Alluka's romantic life), his hands move on their own. Tolluno's fingers part, pin, and twist with surety that comes from a place in his mind that Harry can't access. He's pulling needles and chopsticks from hidden pockets that he didn't even know about; when he's done, Alluka's hair looks… really nice, actually.

Harry's proud of himself. He can't keep it out of his tone when he says, "There. Done!"

Alluka dashes into his en-suite to check. Gasps at what she sees. And screams, "Yes, little brother, YES! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She trips on her way out, ducking in to press a sticky kiss on his cheek. She leaves behind a pink imprint and a shocked Harry. He's never been kissed before. Not even by his new mum.

Man, he loves this family.

"It looks amazing!"

"Er, thanks. Glad you like it."

"I hope... I hope Killua's friend likes it as well," Alluka blushes again, and fidgets bashfully with her fingers. "His eyes… I could really make some money off of them, you know? It would set me up nicely. I wouldn't need to assassinate anyone else for years."

… His what?

Alluka shakes off her thoughts and yanks Harry to his feet. "Oh, who cares. Killua might have first dibs on his Kurta friend's eyes anyway, but it won't hurt to try. Come on, we'll go greet big brother at the servant's quarters! Kalluto might already be there!"

"I was busy doing something, Alluka!" Like practicing his aim so he could actually kill someone at the Svalbard ball that he's wearing _a real dress_ for. Dire situations. Harry's sure he monologued about it earlier.

"Oh, I'll help you with your training afterwards. Or maybe Illumi will — he's coming home tomorrow, did you know? And he's way better with needles than you are. You'll be fine!" She sounds certain of it. Harry swallows nervously because he's kind of pretty sure that he's going to _die_ when he goes to that ball and he exactly keen on that.

"Er, sure."

Alluka lays her manicured hand on his shoulder and smiles, warm enough that it reaches her eyes. Harry flushes under the attention, much against his will. This new body of his is wildly different in a _lot_ of aspects, but the one thing that hasn't changed is his visceral pleasure whenever he's praised. "Listen, if I'm able to seduce this guy and sell his eyes, I'll use the money to buy that Tao Te Ching text for you, okay? As thanks."

Harry doesn't know how to read Chinese. His traitorous heart skips a beat. Tao Te Ching means nothing to him intellectually, but _Tolluno_ is a history nerd and the name obviously means something to _him_.

"So don't be nervous, Tolluno. I'm your big sister. I have your back, just like you have mine."

If it's a pep talk, it's a fantastic one. Harry grins. "Okay, I'm game."

Alluka claps, winds her arm through his, and frogmarches them down the dark winding hallways of their castle home. Harry still has no idea how to tell the difference between corridors, but he's minding it less and less. When he's _really_ lost, one of the butlers melts out of the walls to direct him where he needs to be. Harry is looked after here. It's kind of amazing.

… But he should really ask about the 'Kurta eyes' thing, because that sounds really dangerous.

And mean?

Is this something he should be concerned about?

"Are you going to kill the Kurta boy?" Harry asks.

Alluka shoots him a strange look. "Of course not. Geez, who do you think I am? Milluki?" She titters to herself. Harry's heard of Milluki. Harry's never seen him in the flesh, although apparently Milluki's always around and rarely leaves the mountain. He's pretty sure Milluki is a poltergeist his mum took pity on, and not his real brother. "I'll just pry out his eyes."

Harry waits for the horror. Predictably, it doesn't come down on him. His body isn't affected by the violence. Assassins probably wouldn't be, now that he thinks about it.

"What if Killua doesn't let you?"

"Have you ever known big brother to deny me, Tolluno-chan?"

That's easy.

"No," replies Harry, who is part nervous about the fact that he doesn't know _anything_ about Killua, and part excited because yay, another brother confirmed! He wonders what Killua is like. "But what if he gets mad that you want to blind his new friend?"

"Then he can talk to Nanika about it," Alluka says primly. If she wasn't walking Harry, he might have stopped in his tracks. His heart jumped in its cage.

 _Nanika?_

Did he have _another_ sibling after all?!


End file.
